Stargazing
by nicotinepatches
Summary: Basically Molly (and the author) shamelessly appreciating the beauty of Benedict Cumberbatch / Sherlock Holmes


His hair fell across his cheeks in soft, tousled curls. In this state, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, he looked peaceful. One would have better luck finding a unicorn than find Sherlock Holmes silent, but that seemed to be what Molly was looking at. She didn't even know Sherlock slept, or whether he could sleep. His mind worked so quickly in such extroadinary ways one would just assume that it never stopped. This was, after all, a man who would forgo food for the reason that it "slows him down".

With his remarkable mind however, Sherlock Holmes could be incredibly thick when it comes to certain things, i.e, human relationships. Molly couldn't help but wonder what he thought of himself. He could say so many things about so many people with just one glance, and yet he remains an enigma. An unsolvable puzzle to all, and maybe even to himself. Did he know how attractive he was? He certainly wasn't sloppy, with his well tailored suits and beautiful dress shirts that Molly had admired every so often (read: every single time he turned up at Bart's), paired with his well-matched signature coat and scarf. His cheekbones protruded in a way that could have been weird had they been on anyone else, but for some reason suited him just fine. Molly wished she could count the colours in his eyes when he stared at her indignantly, enchanting and bright and intelligent as they were. It really was such a waste for the microscope to have the only privelege of staring into them.

The man was draped across the armchair, head lolling to the side. His collar barely hid the long, smooth expanse of his neck, pale from it's constant shelter from the sun thanks to it's owner's penchant to wear scarves rain or shine. Molly couldn't count the times she longed to marr the soft skin with feathering kisses and naughty nibbles. She fought down the urge to do so just as Sherlock stirred in his seat, only to settle back into his slumber. His coat dangled haphazardly off the chair, a few inches from the floor. His shirt, a rich, dark purple fit snugly against his torso, clinging beautifully to his slim shape. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealed slender forearms, which connected to his beautifully shaped hands and long fingers. "How would those fingers feel on my skin?" Molly wondered and bit her lip, as the thought of those fingers touching, feeling _other_ places sent a shudder down her body.

The longer she looked at the sight in front of her, the more she hated the presence of the dash of purple. The insolent piece of fabric had teased her to no end on the many occasions Sherlock has donned it, and at this moment now she absolutely wanted to tear it off. It seemed as if the buttons were mocking her, just barely clinging onto their buttonholes. Molly caught glimpses of pale skin showing through the folds of cloth, so close, and nowhere near enough. She wanted to hear those smug buttons pop as they dropped to the floor, wanted the folds to part under her fingers. Would he moan if she carressed his skin? Would he sigh if she licked his nipples? Feeling wetness, Molly crossed her legs, and shut her eyes.

She musn't look anymore. She had gone far enough, having spent probably the last half an hour mentally undressing and molesting the beautiful man before her. But it was all his fault, for being so ignorantly beautiful in the first place.

"What are you doing, Molly?"

That voice, deep, smooth like velvet. Her eyes snapped open, and there he was again, Sherlock Holmes, world's sexiest best consulting detective.

"Oh! No. Nothing! Everything's fine!" She forced a grin. Don't look into his eyes, don't look into his eyes.

"Hm." His mouth twitched to the side. Eyes boring into her, searching, deducing, but after 10 seconds, just left it at that.

"Well, I think it's time for me to go now" she chuckled nervously. "Things to do!" Time to make a getaway. Inch towards the door. Hand on the doorknob. "Bye Sherlock!"

"Goodbye Molly. Next time don't be so obvious!" She heard just before the door shut.


End file.
